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Don't Stand So Close to Me
For All Nails #326: Don’t Stand So Close to Me By Johnny Pez ---- :Mexico City, Jackson, USM :5 May 1977 “Miss Kahn!” There was something familiar about that voice. As Joan Kahn looked up from her meal and saw him, the memory came back in an instant. “Manuel!” she exclaimed. Recognizing him hadn’t been that hard. He was older than she remembered, of course, but he had always looked young for his age (much to his mortification, she was sure). He had been only sixteen the last time she had seen him, and that had been seventeen years ago, but even now he looked more like a high school student than a man in his early thirties. The man gave her a look of exasperation. “It’s Lolo, Miss Kahn!” She laughed. It had been a running joke in her classes that she refused to use her students’ nicknames. Lolo Enciso had always been Manuel, never Lolo. “Alright,” she said at last, “since we’re outside of classroom hours, Lolo it is. Have a seat. And call me Joan.” He took the offered seat across from the table from her and said, “What are you doing in Mexico City, Miss Kahn? I thought you’d be back in Toryland writing another book.” She noticed that her former pupil carefully avoided mixing languages. She was familiar with the social dynamics behind it: Inglañol might be well enough for the Hispanos up north, but an educated Mexicano lad from Chiapas made sure everyone knew he was educated by keeping his English uncontaminated. “Today,” she answered, “I’m busy with other peoples’ books. My publisher wants to bring out Mrs. Mercator’s book in the C.N.A. I’m meeting with her agent this afternoon.” Enciso was astonished. “What, that crazy book where she wants to kill all the men?” FN1 She smiled. “That’s the one.” The younger man shook his head. “Now it’s your turn,” she continued. “What’s brought you all the way up here to the big city?” “My brother wants me to work on his campaign.” Now it was Kahn’s turn to be puzzled. “Your brother’s running for office in Mexico City?” Enciso shook his head again. “Haven’t you heard? I thought everyone had heard. He’s running for Senator Perez’s seat.” “Wait, Chewy Enciso is your brother? El Popo’s chief of staff?” “You didn’t know? If you had come to our town a couple years earlier, you would have had him in your class.” “Holy crap!” Kahn exclaimed. “I wish I’d known that a few years ago. It would have saved me a lot of trouble.” “Would you like to meet him?” said Enciso. “He’s supposed to be meeting me here in a few minutes to talk about a job on the campaign.” “Sure, why not?” said Kahn. “I keep running into the strangest people in this place. Do you remember that Tory pilot who defected a few years ago?” “The one from ‘Sábado Gigante?’ You met her here?” Kahn nodded. “Turns out one of the Mapmaker’s boys flipped her. I suppose by the time she made it here, he was busy getting ready for his attack on El Pulpo, and he didn’t have time for her, so he left her high and dry.” Thinking back on her meeting with Lt. Stapleton, she added, “She was not a happy woman.” “Oye, Lolo!” Kahn looked up to see another man approaching their table. He looked like a slightly older version of Lolo (meaning he looked old enough to be a college student) with a scraggly beard. She recognized him from the few times she had seen him on the vita with El Popo. “Who’s the chica, ‘mano?” Chewy Enciso finished. She noticed that Lolo’s brother wasn’t so averse to Inglañol. Evidently six years in the capital had eroded some of his Chiapan disdain. Lolo rose from the table and traded embrazos with his brother. “Chewy, this is Miss Kahn, my old English teacher from back home.” Chewy goggled at her. “The New Day lady?” “That’s me,” Kahn said. Lolo continued, “She says she wants all the Tories to read that crazy book by the Mapmaker’s old lady.” Kahn said, “I’m negotiating with Señora del Valle’s agent for the North American rights to her book. And Lolo tells me you’re planning to run against Senator Perez. I take it you’ll be running for Mr. Costigan’s party, whatever he ends up calling it.” Kahn knew that Perez was one of Secretary del Rey’s creatures, appointed to one of the new Senate seats that opened up when the old Capital District had been enlarged and admitted as the state of Jackson. “We’ve decided on ‘United Mexican Party’,” Chewy answered, eyeing her with some suspicion. “New wine in an old bottle,” Kahn remarked. Still suspicious, Chewy said, “How does a Tory profesora come to know so much about Mexican politics? Are you a reporter?” “I’m a historian,” Kahn replied. “I’m also the crazy lady who gave Joe Osterman the Camacho file at the airpark.” “The hell you say,” Chewy said. Lolo, who had been watching the interplay between his former teacher and his brother like a tennis spectator watching a match, said, “Wait. Camacho file? You mean that place in South America where Mercator had his bomb factory?” “I took a little side trip there after my last book came out,” Kahn explained. “I found one or two things out and passed them on to your brother’s friend.” “And set off the fight between El Popo and the Mapmaker,” Chewy said. “You seem to get around, lady. Maybe I ought to hire you for the campaign too.” She told Chewy, “You could do worse. I can put you in touch with Paul Markey up at Champlain. He owes me a favor.” Chewy stared is silence for a moment before saying, “Lady, who the hell are you?” Kahn said, “Me? I’m just a nice Jewish girl from Brooklyn City.” ---- Forward to FAN #327: Forward to 15 July 1977: A Call to Barms. Return to For All Nails. Category:Joan Kahn Category:USM politics